


My Angel For Always

by QueenOfDesithell (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean acts as a medic, Fallen Castiel, Human Castiel, Injured Castiel, Kissing, M/M, Regret, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sadness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fast action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/QueenOfDesithell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trenchcoat, now dirtied so badly it's hard to tell that it originally been tan. Insanely messy, brown/black hair. And blood, blood all over everything. </p><p>"Cas!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Angel For Always

He hasn't been here in days. Hadn't checked in, hadn't said a word, hadn't sent any sign that he was here and okay.   
And Dean, big, tough, hunter Dean, was extremely worried.   
The angel had never done this before. He'd always pop in, or find a way to tell Dean and his brother Sam that he was okay and moving, and for the time being, the brother/hunter duo would be satisfied in knowing that their angel was still running.   
Running from what? Angels. Demons. Any other kind of monster that could get their hands on him. Why? Well he was acclaimed to be dangerous, and along with that fact, he was affiliated with Sam and Dean Winchester. Everything out there wanted to capture him, and therefor, forced him to leave his peaceful life with the Winchesters, and always be moving, running, escaping from whatever lurked in his shadow.   
But now, it'd been over a week, and there'd been no sign of Castiel. Sam was a little nervous about it of course, they were like brothers too, but it was driving Dean insane. Something terrible could have happened to the angel. He could be in so much pain right now, he could be getting tortured, he could be dead. How was Dean to know? These thoughts tortured the usually hard-felt hunter, drove him to insomnia and loss of appetite. Drove him to call out for help to find Castiel, but to no avail. He was wrecked with worry.   
It went on like this for 9 days.   
~  
Dean had been reading book after book last night, trying to find a creature that could help him locate a fallen angel. Page after page, word after word, into the latest hours that a night could offer. He intended to stay up all night if that was what it took, but ultimately and unknowingly had fallen asleep. And that's where he is now, slumped over a pile of books in the bunker's study, snoring softly, his head resting on his arms.   
But even through this fretful sleep he'd been having, a bad feeling creeped into his gut, and his head shot up, shaking off his tiredness and replacing it with alert, hyperactive senses. He looks around the study, searching for anything out of place, but is only greeted by books. Books, God he hated books. He reaches up and rubs his hand down his face, feeling the clammy forehead and day's old scruff beneath his fingertips. Maybe he'd been dreaming. But no, there it was again, that feeble, gut wrenching feeling that something was wrong.   
He cocks his head, listening, and suddenly picks up a slight rapping. On the wall, on the table, on something, he knows not what, but he hears it all the same and instantly shoots up out of his chair. The pain in his back is ignored as he grabs the gun at his side and holds it out in front of him, slowly walking and making his way out of the study, searching for the source of the knocking. He comes into the large lobby area of the bunker -that was once inhabited by his ancestors- and listens again. And again, the feeble rapping, but this time, he knows it's coming from somewhere above him.  
Looking round him first, he keeps the gun poised in front of him, and makes his way up the lobby stairs that lead to the front door. His feet are quiet on the steel steps, and he continues listening as the knocking grows only slightly louder as he nears the door. Whoever it is is outside.   
"Dean?" A voice calls from below him, startling him.   
He looks down and sees Sam standing there, looking confusedly up at his older brother. Dean cocks his head towards the door, and brings a finger to his lips to tell Sam to be quiet, quickly replacing the hand back on his gun. He nears the door and quickly turns to lean his ear against it. He can hear shuffling from the other side, as if someone were moving about. And then the knocking again, and it's undoubtedly coming from outside. With one hand on the door handle and the other still on his gun, he wretches the door open, ready to shoot at whatever is on the other side. But he sees nothing at eye level, and doesn't notice any presence until a second later as he looks down at his feet.   
Trenchcoat, now dirtied so badly it's hard to tell that it originally been tan. Insanely messy, brown/black hair. And blood, blood all over everything.   
"Cas!" Dean shouts, tossing his gun an dropping to his knees before his angel. Castiel looks up at him then, a creature once so warrior-like, now barely able to hold his head up himself. His blue eyes are dull, and Dean instinctually grabs the bloodied face in his hands.  
"Dean...I fell...and then they...they took my grace" is all Castiel chokes out before his eyes close and he passes out at Dean's feet. It'd been days since he'd heard from Castiel, and now here he is, lying unconscious at his feet.  
"Sam!" Dean yells down to his brother, already shoving his arms under the angel's legs and back. He grunts with effort as he pushes himself to his feet, Castiel limp in his arms.  
"Cas?" Sam's voice startles Dean, having come up behind him without Dean's knowing.   
"Sam he's hurt" Dean says frantically, already carrying the angel down the stairs, Sam at his heels. Dean's practically jogging with Castiel held tight to his chest, taking them all in the direction of Dean's room all the way at the back of the bunker. The duo-turned-trio make it there in half the time it would regularly take them.   
"Cas just hang in there buddy" Dean whispers, mainly to himself, his heart beating fast and nothing on his mind besides helping the angel. He gently lays Castiel on his bed, not caring about the mess he'd have to clean up later due to Cas's dirty clothes and blood. The man suddenly whimpers, his eyes snapping back open, intense hurt plastered across his face. A hand grips onto Dean's arm weakly, grasping at the sleeve of his shirt and his skin.   
"Cas what-"  
"My back Dean" Castiel wheezes, eyes screwing shut in pain.   
"Sam get the medical kit" Dean commands his brother, throwing a glance back at him. Sam nods and runs back out of the room, and Dean turns back to Castiel.   
"You gotta sit up Cas" Dean says reluctantly, knowing how badly it's probably hurt Cas, seeing all the blood, it must be coming from his back. The angel nods after what seems like forever, and grabs onto Dean's shoulder, his hand brushing over the handprint that he'd left so long ago. Carefully, Dean helps him sit up, wincing himself every time Cas groaned in pain. And more carefully yet, Dean makes Cas relinquish his grip on Dean and helps him ease off the ruined trenchcoat, tossing it onto the floor in mild disgust.   
"Cas I need to get the other shirt off" Dean whispers, cheeks involuntarily turning red, fingers busy undoing Cas's shredded tie.   
Cas looks at Dean while the hunter throws his tie on top of the trenchcoat, blue eyes catching emerald ones and holding them in his gaze. Dean is entranced for only a moment before he breaks away, clearing his voice of the tension. Slowly, his fingers nimbly work at the buttons of Cas's dress shirt, shaking ever so slightly every time his fingers would brush across the skin of Cas's chest. When he's gotten it open, he ever so carefully tugs the arms off, with Cas's help. Cas hisses in his breath as Dean peels the bloodied shirt from his back, grabbing tightly onto Dean's knee, to which Dean jumps.   
"Dean?" His little brother suddenly calls from the doorway.   
The medical kit, right. Dean shakes his head and drops the shirt onto the growing pile of clothes, and jumps off the bed, relived that he could clear his mind of Cas's touch if only for a moment. He grabs the kit out of Sam's large hands, and nods, to which Sam nods back, and turns around to head somewhere else in the bunker. It dawns on Dean that he's again alone with hurt, half naked Cas, who needs his help...  
"Dean" Cas calls weakly from his bed, his voice breathy and hoarse. Dean turns back to the man, noticing the discarded socks and shoes laying amongst the other clothing, and sees the hands lying feebly on the black belt, the only thing holding the slacks to Cas's body. Dean makes a small noise in the back of his throat, then instantly wonders what the hell is happening to him. Maybe it's the fact that Cas is so vulnerable in this...human form. Cas is human. Dean had only now just realized.   
The medical kit is dropped on the sheets of his bed, slightly forgotten as Dean reaches down to help Cas with his unspoken problem. He undoes the belt with ease, but his fingers are shaky when he pops open the button and pulls down the zipper.   
"Do you need help-"   
"Dean if you would please" Cas mumbles, his voice wavering. Dean reddens again, and takes to his knees, slowly helping Cas pull down the muddy dress pants he always adorned. Dean wonders if he'd ever taken them off before...they're soon on the floor, Dean clearing his throat to try to act like he hadn't just thought what he had. He straightens back up, and looks down at the sorry man on his bed, wanting nothing other than to protect and heal him, seeing that he could no longer do it himself.   
"C'mon Cas...we gotta get you cleaned up before I can do anything about your injuries" Dean says gently, looking fondly at the blue eyed man who stares back at him. Cas's eyes look sad and defeated, and he nods his consent. Dean has to practically lean over the top of him and grab his forearms, letting Cas support himself to stand. As soon as they try walking however, his legs buckle, and Dean has to worm his arm around the man's back to keep him from falling. The slightly shorter man smiles up at him, but his smile is only one that looks worn and tired.  
They make their way slowly into Dean's adjoining bathroom, where Dean seats Castiel on the toilet, making sure he's steady before letting go to turn on the tap in the tub. The water rushes out, comfortably hot, and Dean stands there as he waits for it to fill up. Castiel looks pitiful sitting there, leaning on the toilet for support, looking like he'd been through hell, literally. Dean throws him a soft smile before turning back to turn the water flow off.   
"Dean what about..." Cas trials off, and Dean glances back at him. The blue eyes travel from the green ones, down to his own waist, eyeing his boxers meekly. Dean gulps, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing as he steps over to Cas and takes the undergarments in his hands gently, shutting his eyes while he pulls them off. He can't think about it, refuses to think about it. Cas needs his help, and he can't be thinking such thoughts.   
Dean lets them fall to the ground and opens his eyes again, keeping them trained on Cas's face and grabbing his forearms again. The climb into the tub for Cas is difficult, and Dean has to hold the weak man up more than once to help him in and into a sitting position. Cas sighs as the warm water hits his skin, his eyes closing. Dean tries not to look, he really does, but his eyes defy him and take in Cas's body, watching him breathe and shift in the water. He shakes himself free of his thoughts and quickly lathers up a washcloth.   
He wastes no time in getting Cas's arms, legs, chest, neck, and face clean. He has him sit up -wincing- and gently dabs the man's injured back clean, all the while making soothing noises every time Cas flinched or whimpered. Dean skips the parts he knows he'd get himself into trouble while doing, and with difficulty, helps Cas back out of the tub. He hands Cas a fluffy white towel, and the man starts to dab at his torso and face, but it's too slow for Dean's liking. The towel is snatched back, and Dean is rubbing Cas dry, being as careful as he possibly could, and again, leaving parts alone. The thoughts running through his mind could get him into such a tangled mess...  
"Wait here" Dean says, his voice sounding small. He walks back into his room, rummaging in a dresser drawer for boxers and some flannel sleep pants for Cas to borrow and wear. He carries these to the now clean man, and helps him into each, trying not to pay attention to the way the man grips his shoulder for support, or what exactly is at his eye level when he bends down to pull the clothing up Cas's legs.  
In silence, they make their way back onto Dean's bed, where Dean has Cas sit with his back exposed. The medical kit is opened by Dean's shaking hands, and he makes his way back to Cas with supplies for stitching. The wounds on Cas back are horrible; two vertical stripes right on the inside on each shoulder blade...right in the position where wings would be.   
"Oh...Cas..."Dean says softly, feeling such empathy towards the poor man. He reaches out a hand and slowly ruffles the dark hair that he'd just washed, quickly pulling away because of the blush rising up his neck.   
Dean gets to work then, numbing the wounds before he starts to stitch, using every ounce of his willpower not to completely hover over Castiel like a mother. Cas sits in silence, his eyes tired and glossed over as Dean finishes the job, topping it all off with bandages stuck snugly to Cas's skin.   
The blue eyed beauty looks up at him then, his lip quivering, tears forming in his eyes. He blinks at Dean,and then suddenly the tears are flowing down his cheeks, and Dean has to bite his tongue to keep the lump in his throat from seeing Cas cry down.  
"Dean, wha-what is this?" Cas sniffles, salty tears still coming fast every time he blinks. He rubs away at them, but they keep coming, and he seems even more saddened by the fact that he can't stop it. Dean reaches out and grabs his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face and holding them in between them both.  
"They're tears Cas. You're crying" Dean says, feeling the heartbeat beneath his fingertips by the inside of Cas's wrists. With this, Castiel lets out a strangled sob, his whole body racking with the effort and intensity of his crying. The lump in Dean's throat rises, and his grip on Cas's wrists relinquishes.  
"I was so careful Dean. Then they came, and th-they took everything. They took all I had" Cas sobs, tears running down all over his cheeks. Dean shushes him, and quickly maneuvers himself to sit beside the ex-angel, taking him into his arms before either of them have any time to think about it. Cas leans into Dean's chest while Dean's arms engulf him, paying special attention not to upset the bandages. Tears soak through Dean's t-shirt as he lets Cas cry into his chest, one hand wrapped around him while the other is stroking through his soft hair.  
"You still have me Castiel" Dean soothes, resting his cheek on the tufts of dark hair on Cas's head. Cas's crying is muffled at the sound of his full name leaving Dean's mouth for the first time in what seems like forever, and he takes a deep breath, feeling it rattle through his aching chest. Though there are tears still running down his cheeks, Cas raises his head from Dean's neck, sniffling as he looks curiously at into Dean's eyes.  
Surprised, the hunter blushes, and averts his gaze down to Cas's chest, busying himself with looking at all of the little scars pockmarked across the skin. Meanwhile, seeing Dean distracted gives Cas the perfect opportunity...  
Before he can think twice, Cas is raising his head and fitting their lips together quickly. Dean is shell shocked, his lips frozen and his eyes wide open. He can feel the warmth of Cas's mouth on his, the intensity of his desperateness to get Dean to reply, the gripping of Cas's hand tangled in his shirt.  
And then he's kissing the man back and he can feel the gloriously chapped lips and can taste his mouth and feel them both relax into it and he can feel his hand traveling onto Cas's cheek to hold him there. And then Cas is parting his lips and Dean is worming his tongue into his mouth and their tongues are dancing and Dean can't breathe and he knows he's kissing his bed friend, and my god, he doesn't give a damn about any of it. And his heart swells when Cas whimpers against his mouth and they both pull away, realizing what they'd done and how fast it had happened. And they both have goofy grins on their faces while they rest their foreheads together and breathe deeply, taking in every ounce of the other's presence. It had all happened so fast.  
"I think you can stay in my bed for tonight, huh Cas?" Dean chuckles softly, feeling giddy and completely blissful, not even an ounce of shame or regret in his being. Cas just kisses him again in reply, his hand roaming up Dean's shirt and making the not-so-tough-after-all hunter shiver with every touch. And their tongues collide again and it's slower than before and they each can feel every movement, every little breath, and then Cas is muttering "I love you" between every little kiss and Dean's heart is about to burst.  
They pull away, intoxicated with the taste of each other, smiling like madmen.  
"I love you too..." Dean whispers finally, and Cas is relieved when he hears the words, and he suddenly understands how powerful love really is.   
"And Cas?" Dean continues, trailing his hand back and forth across Cas's stubbled cheek, his eyes closed peacefully...  
"Yes Dean?" Cas mumbles, leaning in to Dean's touch.  
"Wings or not...you'll always be my angel."

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me how I'm doing? This is only my second fic so I hope you enjoy! Kudo, comments, and/or suggestions are appreciated!


End file.
